Saturday, 29 January 2011

Now light streams through the trees of the dream. Dead friends idly amble through the arches The green bower makes over our heads;In Bill's backyard -- framed for this flashbackTo the days before, or perhaps during,the Flood -- Things are, as in a kind of moonlit masque Lit up at night like the carnival sceneIn Strangers on a Train; yet strangersThere are none, only friends; summer fog coming inOn the marine layer clockwork shuttle Over the populous village in the dream; Sea, hill, wood, numberless goings on; Off in the distance beyond Elm somewhere, Off beyond Ocean Parkway in the mists, A whistle buoy intermittent; blue reedySpiritual openness of Eric Dolphy floating from inside the humble shackTaking shape as words, a cool Geometrical language; then cloudy facesTossed up on the cresting wavesBeyond the reef, in the dream: ghostsWaving, not drowning. So let's make this strollThrough the underworld last.

Into the gloom of the Tunnel of Love on a boat named after Pluto, god of the underworld: screen shot from dvd trailer for Strangers on a Train (image by Yworo 2010)

Tuesday, 25 January 2011

March 6. On recent nightsI've had dreams that remained deeply engraved in my day. Last night I dreamed I had company. Friendly things came my way; I believe they consistedprimarily in women taking an interest in me -- indeed, even commenting favorably upon my appearance. I think I remember remarking aloud that now I probably wouldn't live much longer -- as if this were the last display of friendship among people bidding one another farewell.

Later, just before I awoke, I was in the company of a lady in Adrienne Monnier's rooms. They were the setting for an exhibition of objects which I can't quite recall. Among them were books with miniatures, as well as plates and intricately wrought arabesques which were colorfully overlaid as if with enamel. The rooms were on the ground floor facing the street, from which one could look in through a large windowpane. I was on the inside. My lady had obviously already treated her teeth according to the technique that the exhibition was advertising.

She had polished them to an opalescent shine. The color of her teeth ran to dull green and blue. I took pains to make her understand most politely that this was not the correct use of the product. Anticipating my thoughts, she pointed out that the inner surfaces of her teeth were inlaid in red. I had indeed meant to say that, for teeth, the brightest colors are scarcely bright enough.

Toothpaste with wood-texturing: Blender3D image by SoylentGreen, 2006

I've been suffering greatly from the noise in my room.

Wood-Texture, Band type: Blender3D image by SoylentGreen, 2006

Last night my dream recorded this.

Looping Particle Fire: Blender3D image by SoylentGreen, 2006

I found myself standing in front of a map and, simultaneously, standing in the landscape which it depicted. The landscape was terrifyingly dreary and bare; I couldn't have said whether its desolation was that of a rocky wasteland or that on an empty ground populated only by capital letters. These letters writhed and curved upon their terrain as if following mountain ranges; I knew or learned that I was in the labyrinth of my auditory canal. But the map was, at the same time, a map of hell.

Right arm of 15-foot statue of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (Stoic philosopher and Roman Emperor from 161 AD to 180 AD), discovered in ruins of the frigidarium, largest and coldest room in the Roman baths at Sagalossos, Turkey: photo by SARP, 2008 (via TheTelegraph)

Head of 15-foot statue of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (Stoic philosopher and Roman Emperor from 161 AD to 180 AD), discovered in ruins of the frigidarium, largest and coldest room in the Roman baths at Sagalossos, Turkey: photo by SARP, 2008 (via TheTelegraph)

Marble portrait bust of Marcus Aurelius: Antonine period, 161-180 AD (Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; image by Steerpike, 2007) (His military tunic and cloak reflect his active role as commander-in-chief of Roman forces; he spent many years during the latter part of his reign on campaign in central Europe defending the Danube frontier against several different barbarian tribes. It was during these campaigns that he wrote part of the so-called Meditations, a personal diary of his innermost thoughts.)